The Way We Used to Be
by Arcawolf
Summary: Once, they were on top. Once, the world seemed to be in the palm of their hands. Now? Now, they're just struggling to make sense of the mess their lives have become. Speculative Fic for 4B.
1. Spencer

**I don't own anything associated with Pretty Little Liars. **

**So, this is a speculative future fic, or peeks into how season 4B could go. In other words, events in these chapters will be affected by a lot of off-screen events (like in this chapter, Spencer discovering earlier that Melissa is running an 'Anti-A' team), which should hopefully explain any discrepencies between this and canon.**

**Oh, and this is my first fic in this fandom, so if anyone is OOC, please feel free to tell me.**

* * *

**Chapter 1**

She remembers when she thought she knew everything.

The front door slams closed behind her, and she suddenly feels like a rat caught in a trap. Spencer takes a deep breath, trying to swallow down her nervousness, and marches right into the kitchen. Apart from her, there's only one person there, seated at the table, calm as can be. Spencer takes a seat, and stares intensely at the person across from her.

That person stares back, eyes cold and uninviting.

Finally, Spencer manages to speak: "How could you do this to me?"

Those cold eyes narrow, appraising her like one would a prize horse. "You know why."

"No, I don't!" she spits out. "Tell me."

It's a lie, of course. She knows why. Or at least what Melissa claims to be the reason. A small part of her wants to believe Melissa because sisters aren't supposed to lie and they're supposed to look out for each other . . . but Melissa had never been prime sibling material. And there have been so many lies told by so many people that it's impossible to tell who can be trusted.

"Everything I've done is to protect you," Melissa hisses.

Spencer grits her teeth and struggles not to reveal everything there and now because she still remembers when they thought Melissa was A.

"Bull," Spencer growls.

Melissa's expression doesn't change. "It's the truth, Spencer."

Spencer leans close, speaking so lowly that Melissa has to strain to hear her. "And pushing Aria off a train was supposed to _protect me_? You swore that wasn't you!"

"I was warning A to back off!" Melissa snaps. "Don't tell me you didn't notice that little Aria had it easy for a long time."

"Aria has nothing to do with A!" Spencer slams her hand on the table, making Melissa recoil in surprise. Even in defense of her tiny friend, she's not normally that aggressive. But lately, A has been going after Aria, and that means Spencer's protective instincts are always just below the surface.

Melissa scoffs. "Right."

She meets her sister's sneer with an equally venomous one. "It's funny that you're pointing fingers when you're the one the police are watching."

Melissa leans in dangerously close, as if itching to throttle her. "Someone's trying to frame me. You know that. I didn't kill Wilden!"

Spencer keeps her mouth shut. She's discussed it with the girls, and they all agree it's quite probable – almost certain - that Melissa's telling the truth (because A seems to have a hand in every murder in this town). Still, there's still a possibility she's lying. And Spencer can never let go of a possibility.

Melissa's eyes widens when Spencer doesn't say anything. "You can't honestly believe I did it," she says. "Well? Say something, Spencer!"

"I don't believe anything," Spencer says.

For a moment, there's utter rage scratched across Melissa's face. Then, it fades, replaced by smug confidence. It's probably an act, but it's still unnerving.

"Who were you working with?" Spencer demands.

Melissa says, "Now, Spencer, you know I can't tell you that."

"You're on my side, aren't you?" Spencer shoots back. "I don't see any reason why you can't."

Melissa leans back in her chair and weaves her fingers together. "Because some of us would like to stay alive."

"Like me?"

Melissa shakes her head, like Spencer's a toddler trying to prove an impossible fact. "Spencer, your story isn't the only one going on here. There's so much you don't understand."

Melissa stands. "And so much you won't get to know."

Spencer can only stare at her, shocked. She waits for Melissa to keep talking. But Melissa doesn't, instead she moves to walk away, and Spencer's temper flares. No. Melissa doesn't get to play keep-away with her information while A is haunting them. No way.

"Hey, get back here!"

Melissa keeps walking.

"I said get back here! I'm not done with you!"

Melissa walks into her room, and the lock clicks, but Spencer doesn't give up. She slams her hands against the wood, ready to tear it down with nothing but raw strength. It comes as a complete shock when she's grabbed from behind and hauled back.

Spencer struggles. "Let go! I'm not done with her!"

"What is wrong with you?" Veronica Hastings demands.

"Why don't you ask Melissa that?" Spencer snarls. "Melissa, I'll-"

She never gets to finish her threat, because at that moment, she's hauled into her parents room, and the door closes. At that, at being cut off from the source of her anger, she calms down. She hangs limply in her mother's grip now, breathing heavily.

"Spencer, what is the matter with you?" her mother hisses.

"Nothing," Spencer says. "I just need air."

She wrenches herself out of Veronica's grasp, and leaves the house with as much dignity as she can muster. All the while, her insides churn like the winds of a hurricane.

Closing her eyes, she lifts her chin skywards and bites back a scream, remembering when she used to have all the answers.


	2. Emily

**I don't own anything associated with Pretty Little Liars.**

* * *

**Chapter 2**

She watches the waves, and remembers when she used to be invincible.

Once, the water had been her haven. Even when Alison was missing, even when Aria went off to Iceland and their clique had fallen apart, the water had been there for her. When she was there, splitting the surface with powerful strokes, it was like she had gone back in time. Because swimming never changed; because in a race nothing mattered except the people ahead of you and making your limbs move just _a little bit faster_. Because in the water, it didn't matter who your friends were, or where they were. All that mattered was you. And even when Aria had returned and the A messages had started, she had still taken refuge in the water; still assumed that there, she couldn't be touched.

But then came a rock. And some painkillers. And then she had to accept that wasn't true.

Sitting on the lake's edge, Emily rubs her shoulder. Sometimes, in quiet times like these, it still hurts. She can feel her body smacking into the rocks again, taking from her what she prized most. It hadn't sunk in back then, not until that one disastrous trip to the hospital, where she had finally been forced to accept that A had taken everything from her.

She sighs, and the sound seems to echo through her mind. She thinks back to how it all began, to Alison, the first precious thing that was, however temporarily, taken from her. Alison, with her shining blonde hair, with her heart-shaped face and secretive smile . . . Even though she had Paige now, she still – probably would forever– have feelings for Alison.

And a part of her hates it, because that just makes everything hurt that much more.

Stomach jumping nervously, she glances down at the note balled tightly in her fist. It could be a trick from A, she knows this – a big part of her expects this. But there's still that tiny bit of her that hopes, that prays this might finally be the day . . .

A twig cracks.

She stands and turns in one fluid movement, heart in her throat. She's on the balls of her feet, ready to run should the situation demand it, ready to fight if she has to. You never know what you'll need when you face A.

But it's not A who walks out of the darkness. It's one of the Redcoats, no surprise there, but in the thin light the moon offers, she sees a familiar face. The same one that has haunted her dreams (nightmares?) for months. Still, she doesn't let down her guard.

She speaks shakily. "Alison?"

The person, Alison or the Alison-imposter, raises a finger to their lips.

And just like that, she knows.

"Y-you're really here!" Although she had hoped for it, seeing her not-actually-dead best friend in front of still feels like being stabbed with an ice pick.

"Shh!" Alison speaks more urgently now, and Emily clamps up, even though she's bursting with questions on the inside:

_Where have you been? Why haven't you talked to us? _

_Who is A?_

"Emily, you can't tell anyone you've seen me. Even the others."

"Why?" She runs over, invading Alison's personal space. Once, Alison would have shouted at her for it, or else have responded with a little suggestive gesture of her own, but there's no trace of that now. In fact, Emily barely recognizes the girl in front of her. Alison, in her memory, had always been confident, proud, arrogant. Now, she just looks exhausted.

Alison shakes her head, and says, "A's everywhere, Emily. You can't tell anyone. It's not safe for either of us."

"But . . ."

"Emily, please."

Alison touches her face, and she melts into the warmth.

"Okay," she agrees.

In the distance, an owl hoots. She and Alison stare at each other, the silence so strangely loud. It's a cool night, yet Emily finds a nervous sweat breaking out all over her face.

"You told me to meet you," she says.

Alison bites her lip. "I wanted to see you again. You've had it rough, Emily."

Self-consciously, she rubs her shoulder. "Yeah."

Alison says, "I've missed you girls."

"We've missed you, too," Emily says. "But why me? Why not one of the others?"

Alison smiles and for the first time that night, Emily sees some of that mischievous twinkle she used to have. "Didn't I tell you, Emily: you were always my favourite."

Her heart quickens a bit, but that doesn't stop her from saying, "Alison, please, tell me who A is!"

"I thought I knew," Alison says, "but I was wrong. I've hurt so many people, Em, I don't know where to start."

"You have to have some idea of who's trying to find you!" Emily insists.

"I thought it was Mona, or the NAT club," Alison says, "but A's trying to kill them, too. I don't know, Emily."

Emily swallows back her fear. So, Alison knows as little as they do. The thought is terrifying, because ever since Alison revealed herself, they'd all been convinced that she was in control, that she was a guardian angel in the shadows. But the truth is she's not. She's just like them: lost and scared.

"I'm so sorry, Em," Alison whispers. They both know she isn't just apologising for not having the answers.

"It's okay," Emily says. "We . . . I . . . we're going to figure this out. We will."

She isn't sure whether it's just her imagination, or whether the world really went quiet. The already-small distance between her and Alison seems to shrink, until Emily is convinced that if she moves even just an inch, they would be touching. Suddenly, the silence is bursting with tension and unconsciously, Emily leans in, breath catching when Alison does the same. . .

And Alison pulls away, staring off into the distance.

"I have to go," she says.

There's so much that Emily wants to say, but all she manages to get out is: "Be careful."

Alison smiles sadly. "I should be saying that to you."

Then, Alison's running. Her red coat flares out behind her like a pennant, waving goodbye as its owner fades into the trees.

And just like that, Alison is missing again.

Emily stands alone in the woods, the moon high above her. The weight of everything she promised suddenly hits her, and she staggers with the load. They have to stop A, they won't rest until they do, but every time they seem to get somewhere, it all comes crashing down. A's like a god, toying with them for amusement, laughing at their feeble attempts to fight back.

She isn't sure if they can stop him.

Emily shivers as waves lap at the lakeshore, and remembers when she used to have faith in herself.


	3. Hanna

**I don't own anything associated with Pretty Little Liars.**

* * *

**Chapter 3**

She watches them, a furious scream in her throat, and remembers when she used to be in charge.

"Hanna?"

At the sound of her name, Hanna snaps out of her daze. She makes no effort to hide the anger on her face as she turns to Mona. "Yes."

"It's time for class," Mona says simply.

"Oh, right." Hanna hitches up her bag, but as she does so, she casts a backwards glance at the sight that had entranced – infuriated - her so in the first place.

Aria and Ezra.

Mona leans in conspiratorially. "Still think it's him?"

"Yes," she says, giving Ezra a nasty look he can't see. "I'm sure."

Mona says nothing, but the smile pasted across her face is what Hanna likes to call her scheming smile. She plays with a lock of Hanna's hair, using that as an excuse to look back at the toxic couple.

As they walk through the halls, leave Ezra's presence, Mona confides, "Mike isn't much help. He has no idea what's going on between those two."

Hanna spits, "Apart from the fact that they're totally hooking up again?"

Technically speaking, that isn't true, but it's only a matter of time. Aria and Jake have broken up and every day, Aria seems to fall further into Ezra's orbit. It's maddening, and frightening, to see, because all of them – especially Hanna – are convinced that Ezra is, in some way, connected to A.

If only Aria could see it.

"I don't think he's even aware of that," Mona says. "It's almost funny: he wants to be there to protect her, but he can't even figure out where she's going all the time."

"So, in other words, your boyfriend is an idiot."

"I didn't say that," Mona replies. "Just . . . oblivious. Innocent. In fact, I was planning to trick him into telling me where Aria's journal is tonight."

Hanna bites back her instinctive protest. She, just like the rest of the girls, knows just how precious one's secrets are. But Aria's flirting with the enemy, and they need to know just how much she's gotten herself into.

(Besides, Mona would do it anyways. She's still hasn't let go of the suspicion that Aria _is_ A).

All Hanna can say is, "Don't read it. Not without the rest of us."

By that, she really means Spencer, because Aria and Spencer have always been like sisters, and if there's someone who could peacefully confront Aria about her secrets, it's her. Plus, unlike Emily and Mona, Spencer is fully onboard the 'Ezra is A' train. And she's going nuts trying to figure out how to get him away from Aria.

She walks down the halls, arm in arm with Mona, and lets her mind drift back to the discovery. Not surprisingly, it had been Spencer who had found the final clue they needed; surprisingly, it had _not_ been Spencer to piece the hints together. No, for once, Hanna had solved the puzzle – though it probably helped that she has the deepest knowledge of what had laid inside the diary she took from A's lair (a diary that, of course, A had taken back). Really, Spencer couldn't be faulted, because it had hardly even been a clue, just an offhand comment . . .

They had been at her house, looking over a letter A sent to Aria. It was a typical A message, filled with vague threats and references, nothing too unusual. But it had made some comments about Jake, and that had been the key. Spencer had read them, leaned back, and commented, "Wow, A reminds me of a jealous ex."

And that had been all Hanna needed. The diary's passages about Boardshorts, Ezra's weird behaviour, A's sudden change of targets, _everything_ had snapped together.

And she knew. Just like that.

A had been in front of them this entire time.

The flashback ends as Emily catches up to them. She loops her arm with Hanna's empty one. Mona, never one to share, holds Hanna tighter to herself, and Hanna just sighs, resigned to her role as the rope in a game of tug-of-war. It's not that Mona's selfish, she's just never had many friends, and still doesn't completely trust the other girls (especially Aria).

"Are we still on for tonight, Em?" Hanna asks.

Emily smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes. "Actually, I think I have to reschedule –"

Hanna cuts her off. "A?"

Emily looks around, then whispers, "No."

Hanna's eyes widen. She tries her best to give Emily a look that will ask, _Is it Alison?_

Emily's about to say something, but then she suddenly clams up. Her eyes are fixed on a point behind Hanna's shoulder, and Hanna instinctively whips around (Mona just goes with it, as relaxed as ever).

Ezra nods. "Good morning."

"Morning, Mr. Fitz," they chime back.

Hanna waits impatiently for him to leave, for him to go play his part of the kind English teacher or go seduce Aria or something. But Ezra doesn't leave. He walks up to their group and Hanna has to bite her tongue to stop herself from shouting out her suspicions about him.

Instead, she settles for, "Can we help you?"

For a second, nothing else exists but her and him. The tension between them is so thick it's almost visible. Yes, she knows he's one of the bad guys . . . and she's beginning to suspect that he knows she's figured it out.

Ezra breaks the standoff, and says, "I'd like to talk to Ms. Fields, if you girls aren't busy."

"To me?" Emily repeats, as if the idea was unthinkable.

"Yes." Ezra glances between her and the other girls. "Is this a bad time?"

"No." Emily swallows, and then repeats that in a stronger tone. "No. Now is fine."

"Okay, great." Ezra's eyes flicker to Hanna for a brief moment, then back to Emily. "I don't think this is the kind of conversation that we would want to have in the open."

Emily nods nervously.

It's almost like Ezra knew what she was about to tell Hanna.

Right before Emily leaves with him, Hanna catches a glimpse of her eyes. In them, she reads distress, an plead for help. But there's nothing she or Mona can do without confirming to Ezra that they know. So, they stand there, silent, as a second member of their team walks off with the enemy.

Hanna forces herself to look away, and remembers what it was like to have control.


	4. Aria

**I don't own anything associated with Pretty Little Liars.**

* * *

**Chapter 4**

She pulls the blanket closer to herself, and remembers what it was like to trust.

It's Saturday morning, and she's confident no one has realized she didn't sleep at home last night. Her mom is probably off with her husband-to-be, making preparations for their wedding. She knows Mike is off on a date with _Mona_ somewhere. Her dad is god knows where. The same goes for her friends. While Aria had always been a bit out of the loop before, she'd never been this left out. It's no longer that she misses things just because she's not there, but she's realized that her friends are deliberately keeping things from her, _lying _to her.

It hurts, because even though she's aware she doesn't know all their dirty secrets, she still thought she could _trust_ them.

But trust is a rare thing these days. Once, she had her friends, and Jake, and Ezra to trust. But now? Now her friends were deceiving her; she and Jake were broken up for his own sake.

And Ezra?

The bed sheets rustle. On the other half of the bed, Ezra stirs. He blinks sleepily, and turns over to face her. Aria gives him a small smile in response.

"Hey," he says. He rolls over enough to kiss the top of her head.

"Hey," she echoes. Her heart is thumping wildly in her chest, but it's not from joy or delight at his presence.

His arms wrap around her, cradling her shoulders. His chin rests on the top of her head as he murmurs, "I love you so much."

"I know," she says, and it's true. She knows he loves her.

It's the reason she and her friends are still alive.

She snuggles in close, and squeezes her eyes shut, tries to squeeze out the anger, the _hate_ coursing through her veins. Hate not just for him (at least she tries to hate him, but when he's there with her, treating her so gently, it's harder than she likes to admit), but for her family for not being there, for her friends for failing to notice her misery.

But mostly, she hates herself.

Because she had all the clues in front of her, and still couldn't see it.

In hindsight, it was so obvious. In hindsight, there were so many hints that she must have been an idiot for not noticing them: how A had mostly left her alone; why A had never outed her relationship with Ezra; why A only attacked her after she rejected Ezra following that heated night at his cabin. But the biggest clue of all was A's viciousness towards Jake (Because A may have hated everyone associated with them, but it became obvious very fast that A really, _really_ hated Jake).

And still she hadn't put it together. There was no ingenuity on her part, or channelling Spencer. There had just been some curious, meant-to-be harmless snooping, and an unconscious awareness that the more she stuck with Ezra, the safer her life seemed to be (almost like A was _herding_ her). The evidence had simply become too much, and eventually, even she had to admit it.

Ezra was A.

A phone goes off. They jerk away from each other, staring wide-eyed at the culprit. They're always a little jumpy when they're together, on account of the whole student-teacher relationship (she's thought about going to the police a couple of times, ending this. But Ezra would know the second she did, and in the time it took for the police to arrest him, she has no idea how much damage he could cause). She laughs their surprise off, grabs her phone and walks out of the room. Her smile drops from her lips the second Ezra can no longer see her.

"Hello?"

"_Hey, Aria. Where are you?_"

Silently, she curses. "I'm fine, Jake. I'm safe."

"_Your brother says you didn't come home last night_."

She closes her eyes and sits on one of Ezra's counters, suddenly too weary to keep standing. Great. Just what she needed. Why couldn't Mike go back to not caring about what she did?

"I'm fine," she repeats.

A miserable silence follows. She wants to tell him, to tell him exactly what's going on, because Jake has always tried to be for her what Caleb had been to Hanna: the steadfast protector. But she knows he can't. He might be a martial arts expert, but A (Ezra) can still hurt him. He proved that when he hid knives in Jake's punching bag.

"_Alright. If you're sure . . ._"

There's a hopeful pause on his end. In it, Aria hears the same question she always sees when he looks at her: _why did you _really_ break up with me_? Her answer to him had always been that she didn't feel the same way he felt towards her, and that he had to leave her alone. Jake wouldn't, though. The day they had met, he had figured out quickly that someone was threatening her; and just like it had taken him a couple of minutes to figure that out, it had only taken him a couple of minutes to realize that same person had forced her to break up with him.

It was almost sad how Jake seemed to be the only one to see that.

(It _was_ sad how she hadn't listened to his warnings about Ezra.)

"Thanks for calling, Jake, but I'm fine. Really."

She says her last goodbyes, and then hangs up the phone. She can't quite bring herself to face Ezra again, so she just stands there, wallowing in her self-hatred.

Finally, she hears Ezra's sheets rustle and that stirs her back into action. He's probably getting impatient, suspicious, and that's exactly what she doesn't need.

She pastes a smile on her face, and walks back into the bedroom, carelessly tossing her phone aside, as if the call doesn't matter. The smile he gives her back is only partly forced; he's genuinely happy to have her around (at least, she thinks he is), but he's nervous about who called her.

Sure enough, the first thing he asks is: "Who was that?"

"Jake," she says honestly. She might as well be honest, because it's incredibly unlikely that Ezra _didn't_ already know. "Mike thought I ran away from home or something."

"What did you tell him?"

"That I was at Spencer's." She plops down on the bed, and touches his leg. "If they call her, she'll cover for me."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

His last question had been expressed in a vague, distant manner, so it's a bit of a shock when his complete attention suddenly snaps to her. The muscles on his face have grown stiff, and his mouth cracks open a bit, as it always does when he's angry. "I thought you told Jake to stop bothering you."

Her mouth runs dry, but she manages to keep her face relaxed. She did. Several times, with varying degrees of desperation. She can't tell Ezra that though, or Ezra will take it upon himself to make Jake leave her alone. So, she says, "He is Mike's instructor; I'm going to have to talk to him every once in a while."

"Mike's a big boy," Ezra says.

"He's my little brother!" She says that as if it clinches the argument, and for all intents and purposes, it does.

"Okay. Okay . . ." he repeats in a lower tone, and it's probably to reassure him as much as it is to reassure her. "Did you want breakfast?"

She laughs. "Ezra, we both know you can barely cook."

"Do you . . .?"

She knows what he's asking, and the honest answer is no. She wants to leave, to go back to hanging out with her friends, to fretting over Mike and his bursts of rebellion, to hide in the shadow of Jake's courage, to cuddle up with her friends where she's _safe_.

But she agrees to fix breakfast. She stays, because she remembers vividly what Ezra – what _A_ – was like when she wasn't with him. Vicious. Violent. Murderous. She's come to realize that in a morbidly ironic way, she's his leash. He loves her, not enough to leave her friends alone, but enough to keep them alive.

And if that leash were ever to break, she doesn't know what he would do.

She doesn't know what he _could_ do.

So, she stays. Because it's the only thing she can do to protect them.

She switches on the stovetop as Ezra's arms encircle her from behind, and remembers when she used to believe in happy endings.


	5. Spencer II

**I don't own anything associated with Pretty Little Liars.**

* * *

**Chapter 4**

She remembers him; of course she does. Spencer rarely forgets a face. But he's from a time that seems so long ago, from before Melissa rented a hotel room to get away from her. So, when Jake meets her eyes as she walks out of school, and then walks over to her, Spencer is understandably surprised.

"Hey, Jake. Looking for Aria?" She regrets that the second she says it, since Jake and Aria are long broken up, but she honestly can't think of another reason for him to be here.

He swallows hard, but otherwise doesn't react to her name. "Actually, could I talk to you?"

Open-mouthed, she hesitates for a second. "Sure! What's up?"

Jake warily checks out the people behind her. It seems that he's feeling just as awkward and nervous as she is. "Who's Noel?"

"Noel? Noel Kahn?" she repeats, a bit of venom seeping into her voice.

"Might be," he says. "I don't have a last name."

"That's the only Noel I know," she says distastefully. "He's just a jerk at our school. Trust me, you don't want to meet him."

She can tell that the information troubles him. Jake's gaze grows distant as he stares at the school; she wonders if he's thinking of Aria. Not really in the mood to deal with someone's moping ex-boyfriend (because Toby and his fixation on his mother's death takes up enough of her time), she smiles at him, says her goodbye, and walks past him.

But right as she passes his shoulder, he speaks.

"Spencer," he says slowly, carefully, "is something going on between Noel and Aria?"

Whoa. _What_? The question is such a violation of common sense, such an assault on Spencer's knowledge of the world, that she nearly trips. "Aria and _Noel_?" she echoes, and she isn't imagining the revulsion in her voice. "No way. She's been over him for a long time."

"But they did have something?" he asks.

"She had a crush on him," Spencer says, "but that was a long time ago. They're not exactly on good terms anymore."

"Alright." She can tell that if anything, her answer only served to confuse him. And that makes her suspicious.

"Why are you asking about him?" She tries to be friendly, tries to hold back her instinct to pounce and interrogate Jake. She isn't sure whether she succeeded.

He opens his mouth, and she _knows_ he's about to say something important, but at the last minute, he switches tack and claims, "Mike mentioned a few things about him during our last lesson."

"Right." She doesn't believe him. She can tell that he's lying, and the next thing she knows, she's trying to picture him in a black hoodie.

"Thanks," he says. He fidgets a little, then murmurs, "Tell Aria I said hi."

She says nothing, just glares at his retreating back. His explanation has made her suspicious; his questions more so.

And so Spencer decides to do the same thing she always does when she's suspicious.

She snoops.

* * *

Jake is surprisingly easy to follow. Almost too easy. She isn't sure whether it's because he hasn't had to deal with the crap that she and her friends have, or if his martial arts skills just make him that lax. Either way, she follows him to the edge of town, to a rundown café that she's never been in before, then hides behind a waist-high wall. Someone gives her a weird look, but Spencer simply puts her finger to her lips and they leave her alone.

She peeks out. Jake is standing at the entrance of the café, looking lost. However, his confusion lasts for only a second before a loud, and very familiar voice, booms out.

"Hey, you're Jake, right?"

Jake nods. "Are you Noel?"

As they introduce themselves, Spencer creeps closer to them, then peeks out again. They're sitting at an outside table. Jake's broad back faces her, but she can see Noel as well. He's leaning back in his chair, shoulders wide as to take up as much space as possible. It's a very him stance.

Once they're done exchanging pleasantries, Jake gets right to the point. "So, you wanted to talk about Aria."

"Not quite about her," Noel says, and Spencer can picture his shark-toothed grin, "but it's related. Ever met the ex?"

"Do you mean Ezra?" Jake says, asking the very question that's ringing through Spencer's curious mind.

"Yeah, the . . . teacher. What'd you think of him?"

"He seems okay," Jake says cautiously. "I'm really not the person to be asking about him."

There's a short silence. Spencer can hear Noel's knuckles tapping against the table. Then, his chair creaks as he leans forwards.

"I think you're lying," Noel says. "I think you _hate_ the guy. And frankly, I don't blame you."

Another silence, but this one is more threatening. "I don't see why you would say that," Jake finally says. "Ezra and I have only met a few times . . ."

"Yeah, but see, the thing is that I know what the guy is like, and I'm pretty sure there's more to the story than you're saying."

The whole world seems to hold its breath. It still doesn't breathe even when Jake says, "I'm sorry, Noel, but I can't help you."

Noel laughs. "How about I tell you a story? Me and Aria? We almost hooked up once. Then I caught her locking lips with old Mr. Fitz. It was pretty messed up; I mean he's her teacher! So I decided to do what any sensible guy would and tell the principal."

Spencer's heart pounds in her chest. She's heard this story before, was around to see its conclusion, but there's something fresh and exciting about the way it's told now. Despite anything, none of them ever wondered about Noel's thoughts on the matter, or really thought much of Noel at all. Hearing Noel talk now is like getting to look inside the secret compartment she never knew was there.

"But then I made my big mistake: I let Mr. Fitz know I was onto him. Next thing I know, someone's planted tests papers in my locker, and tipped off the principal!"

"And this happened after Ezra found out?" Jake asks. He's leaning forward now, much more interested in the conversation than before.

"Yeah. A pretty big coincidence, don't you think?"

"And you think _he_ did it?" Jake presses.

"Yes."

In the glimpse Spencer catches of his face, Noel looks completely serious. Sincere. It's enough to make her do a double-take and nearly enough to question her assumption that Noel was one of the bad guys. Because right now, if he's telling the truth, he doesn't seem like one.

And she thinks he is telling the truth, because it fits with the conclusion she already has: Ezra is A.

"He threatened me," Jake says quietly.

Noel snorts. There's a certain fierceness in his tone when he says, "Tried to break you and Aria up, right?"

"Something to that effect," Jake says. "He was very certain that he was going to get her back. I didn't think he had anything backing his words up, so I didn't take him seriously . . . two days later, someone hid knives in my training equipment."

"_Knives_?" As serious as the topic is, the way Noel says it makes it sound like the funniest thing ever. "Wow, he's really stepped up his game!"

"He's dangerous." Jake speaks quickly now, seeming relived to find someone he can finally share his concerns with. "I thought there was something odd about him when we met, something _wrong_. When I was with her, I saw him around all the time, watching us. I . . . I think he's threatening her."

Spencer leans back against the wall and closes her eyes. So, it's not just her and Hanna. Others see it, too. It's the closest thing to a confirmation any of them have ever gotten.

At least until Noel speaks.

"Not just her," he says bluntly. "He hit her friend, Hanna, with a car, once."

_What_? Her spine snaps straight when she hears that. Could he . . .could he be talking about Camp Mona?

"You know this?" Jake asks.

"I watched him sign a confession on her cast."

There it is. There's almost a visible click as the pieces of the puzzle snap into place. This is the last bit of proof she needed. Even as she thinks that, she's furious that she didn't record this.

"Someone needs to do something," Jake says.

"That's _exactly_ what I was hoping you'd say," Noel says. "You wouldn't be against a little alliance, then?"

"A partnership?"

"Kind of. I was thinking more along the lines of _teammates_."

She blinks. She has to repeat the words to herself twice, three times. Because she never expected to hear what Noel just told her.

But she did.

"It's him," she whispers. It's him. He's the one (at least one of the people) her sister is working with.

Armed with this new knowledge, she leaps to her feet and marches out the door. She thinks one of them called after her, but she doesn't care.

She has a _loving_ sister to confront.

* * *

The second Melissa opens the door to her hotel room just a little bit, Spencer squeezes through the crack and barges in. The first words out of her lips are, "It's Noel, isn't it?"

Melissa just says, "What?"

"It's Noel. He's one of the guys on your 'B team'!" She waits for her sister's confirmation, but she doesn't really need it. She _knows_ she's right. Her insides are twisting in excitement, and her mind is both deathly sharp and fuzzy; it's like being high, but without the downsides.

When Melissa hesitates for a fraction of a second, Spencer goes in for the kill. "I saw him today with Jake. You're trying to recruit him, aren't you? Why? Why him? What are you planning?"

And Melissa finally finds her voice.

"Spencer, _shut up_!"

"Tell me what you're planning!" she shrieks back. Years of fighting have made both of them champions at being heard.

"No, you don't understand!" Melissa screams. She's red in the face, and there's a frenzied quality in the way her arms flail. "You've ruined everything!"

"Me?" Spencer gapes. "What did I do?"

"A knows everything you know!" Melissa hisses at her. "That's why I never tell you anything."

Insulted, Spencer says, "I'm not going to tell anyone. Except my friends."

"And Aria, right?" Melissa sneers.

"She's not with him," Spencer grates out.

Furiously, Melissa mutters, "You always have to make things worse." She stomps past her, and Spencer lets her go, suddenly unsure.

She doesn't know if Melissa's telling the truth, but she decides to keep her knowledge secret for now.

Including from her friends.

It doesn't stop Jake from being sent to the hospital with a gunshot wound, two days later.


	6. Emily II

**I don't own anything associated with Pretty Little Liars.**

* * *

**Chapter 6**

It's quiet in the house. Emily sits on her bed (well, Alison's bed that she's using) and waits. Her phone is lit up in her hand, counting down the seconds until midnight. She takes a deep breath to calm herself, and drums her finger against the bedframe.

Midnight comes. She holds her breath, half-expecting the house to suddenly go up in flames. But for once, Emily's horrible luck doesn't bite her, and nothing happens. She's relieved because nothing has happened, but also disappointed because something _good_ was supposed to happen.

Or maybe it did.

When her door creaks open, she snatches up a flashlight and boldly shines it at the intruder. What she illuminates is blonde hair and a small, weary smile. The second she registers that, the flashlight is dropped on the bed, forgotten.

"Alison," she breathes in relief.

Alison's smile widens as she sits down on the bed. "Miss me?" she asks.

"Where have you been? Are you okay?" Emily asks. She's suddenly stricken with a bolt of worry: why appear now of all times?

Alison laughs shortly. "I'm as well as I can be."

Right. A. So long as he's around, being okay, being calm, being _safe_ is just a joke. The walls of her room seem to close in, trapping them. She knows it's her imagination, but the temperature spikes a few degrees.

"How are you doing?" Alison asks, hushed.

"Fine, I guess," Emily says. "I . . . I might be able to get a scholarship for swimming, after all."

That last sentence comes out so quietly that she's afraid it might break. Fitting, since the hope is so fragile to begin with. The doctor says she can swim again, but she's still afraid, still swims half-expecting to feel the muscles in her shoulder tear. It took them, all of them, so much time and effort to rouse this last chance for her. They had used connections they didn't know they had, begged, pleaded, and of course, fallen to Alison's old favourite: blackmail.

And it frightens her, because if something took that much effort to gain in the first place, then it would be so easy for it to go wrong. And they all know that A will ensure that _something_ goes wrong.

"That's good," Alison says. "You'll show up old Pig-"

"_Don't call her that_!"

In the wake of Emily's hiss, she sees a shadow of the old Alison. She sees Alison with her nostrils flared, Alison with a gleam of disbelief in her eyes – the queen is astounded that one of her subjects would defy her. But then, Alison swallows, swallows down that old side of her. She says, "I forgot how much things have changed."

It isn't quite an apology, but Emily knows it's meant to be. Plus, it's closer than any Alison has given in the past.

Still, Emily says, "You made Paige want to kill herself."

Alison murmurs, "I didn't mean for it to go that far."

Hearing that, Emily can't stop herself from saying, "Yes, you did. Not now, maybe, but at the time, you did."

It's a low blow. It's a cruel accusation, but it has to be made because it's _true_. They both know that. Tellingly, Alison doesn't bother to deny it. She shrinks instead; her head drops to rest in her hands.

Emily keeps talking. "You were cruel, Alison. To Paige, to us, to _everyone_. We were your best friends, and you treated us like garbage."

"I know."

Emily wasn't sure what she was expecting, but the simple acceptance still catches her off-guard. With something close to awe, she says, "You've changed."

Alison's smile doesn't reach her eyes. "I had to."

Silence rushes in. Emily senses a familiar tension building up, the same one that was present when she and Alison met by the lake. The temperature heats up further (or maybe it's just her cheeks), and the air crackles.

Alison starts to lean –

Someone knocks at the window.

Alison jumps to her feet so quickly it's a blur. Her eyes are wide and terrified, her body half-crouched as it freezes in the perfect position to bolt. Emily barely manages to grab her arm, to hang on as Alison tries to throw her off and run. She whispers that it's okay, that the intruder is a friend.

Sure enough, when the window is opened, no one other than Spencer Hastings tumbles in.

"Hope you two are wide awake," she says, "because it's time to get things moving."

Emily eyes the envelope in Spencer's hand. "Spence, what is that?"

Spencer says nothing, but dramatically opens the envelope and spills its contents all over Emily's bed. Thankfully, the mess it leaves is one that will be easy to clean up. It's just pictures, pictures of what seems to be everyone they've ever met.

Spencer sits down. Her eyes bore into Alison. "Okay, here's the deal. You're going to tell us what these people have against you, and then we're going to figure out who A is from there."

Alison's smile is almost patronizing. "That's not going to work, Spencer. I have bad blood with everyone in this town. How did you know I was going to be here anyways?"

Spencer and Emily exchange a smirk. It's enough of an answer.

Seeking to move on, Spencer pushes a picture into Alison's hand. "Tell me about her."

Alison waves the photo. "It's your sister, Spencer."

"I'm aware of that," Spencer says. "Tell me about her."

"She's not A." Alison slides the photo back. "I know A is a guy."

"But Mona wasn't," Emily points out.

Darkly, Alison says, "I don't think I was ever running from Mona."

They let that sink in, realizing with horror, that back when they had been busy fending off Mona, there could have been a very different game being played in the shadows. Whilst they were dealing with Mona, Alison had been facing off against Mona's more dangerous counterpart.

"See, that narrows it down," Spencer says.

"Yes, to all the guys in Rosewood," Alison says, sounding unconvinced.

"You couldn't have possibly gotten on all their bad sides," Spencer scoffs.

Alison just says, "Watch me."

She picks up the photo closest to her, studies it for a few seconds, then tosses it aside and says, "He dated Cece. She probably told him what I did to her."

Emily pulls the photo closer to herself. It's of Wren.

"Seriously?" Spencer exclaims.

Alison shrugs, as if to say '_oops_'. She picks up the next one. "I told him I would get him the videos from the NAT club. Thinking back on it, I wouldn't be surprised if he _had_ been part of the club, and he came after me for that."

She throws that picture back onto the bed. It's Detective Wilden.

Emily asks, "Spencer, where did you get these photos?"

Spencer nearly chokes. "Please don't ask."

As they have their little discussion, Alison continues to shuffle through the photos. "Holden, bullied him whenever he came around. Lucas, same thing. Noel, blackmailed him a few times. Garret, well you know about that."

She keeps going. The sins keep piling up until they can barely believe it. Finally, even Alison seems to bore of hearing about what a terrible person she used to be. She sits up, and states, "See, this isn't going to work."

Spencer finds her voice first. "Is there _anyone_ who doesn't hate you?"

Alison says, "I never met Aria's old Kung-Fu boyfriend before."

Speaking of Jake, of Aria's love life brings a memory into Emily's focus. She can suddenly feel Hanna beside her, hissing into her ear:

"_It's Ezra._"

"What about Ezra?" Emily asks.

Spencer visibly holds her breath. She's eager to know; in fact, Emily surprised that she didn't ask herself. Alison, on the other hand, colours. Quietly, she admits, "I have a history with him."

Spencer speaks up. "What-?"

"I slept with him."


	7. Hanna II

**I don't own anything associated with Pretty Little Liars.**

* * *

**Chapter 7**

The TV blares. Although Hanna sits in front of it, staring at the picture as if her life depends on it, she's not really sure what she's watching. Her mind is elsewhere, on A related things. They're close, so very, very close to solving the mystery. They have the culprit, and she, Spencer and Emily are all on the same page. They just need _proof_.

Because without proof, there's no bringing Aria into their fold. Without proof, they're a three-woman team, not four.

She hears the front door open, and immediately shuts off the TV. Common sense would say that it isn't A, that A wouldn't be so obvious, but ever since the three of them really started dogging Ezra's trail, he's gotten a lot more aggressive.

However, it's not any of A's minions, but Mona who sashays in. She's sporting a new pair of sunglasses, and carrying some bags that state she's just gotten back from a shopping trip.

"Hey, Hanna!"

"What are you doing here?" Hanna asks, not entirely hostile, not entirely friendly. She hadn't invited Mona over.

"I thought that we could have a movie night, since you're not busy or anything," Mona says with a bright smile.

Hanna almost asks how Mona is so sure about that, but then she remembers. Mona may not be A anymore, but that doesn't mean she's stopped snooping completely.

The first thing Mona does is turn the TV's volume _way_ up. To the point where Hanna claps her hands over her ears. Right when she's about to ask Mona to turn it the _hell down_, Mona turns and stares at her. She puts her finger to her lips, an action with clear meaning behind it. Very deliberately, she takes her cellphone out and puts it down on an end table by the couch. Her subsequent gestures make it clear she wants Hanna to do the same.

Hanna tries to speak again, and again, Mona shushes her. When Hanna still fails to do as she wants, Mona marches over and plucks Hanna's phone out of her pocket.

"Hey-!"

Mona slaps her hand over Hanna's mouth. She gives her a look, her '_I'm disappointed in you_' look, and again, raises her finger to her lips.

Seeing that Mona won't budge, she lets Mona lay her phone on the table, then lets her pull her out of the room.

She thinks they're going up to her room, but Mona stops in the hall. Hanna blinks with confusion, and asks, "Mona, what are we doing?"

"Making sure he can't hear," Mona says.

"Who?"

Mona rolls her eyes. "A, obviously."

"He . . . can hear us?" she says uncertainly. Because if Mona's right, if A can hear her in her own home, then that must mean he's bugged it.

Mona confirms her fears. "Your phone is bugged. All of them are. I can't believe none of you ever figured that out. Anyways," she flicks her wrist in the direction of the TV, "he should think that we're just watching a movie."

"My phone is bugged!" she nearly shouts.

"Shh!" Mona slaps her hand over Hanna's mouth, again. "Do you want him to hear us? No wonder you girls never get anywhere."

"I figured out who A was," Hanna snaps back.

"And lost the diary," Mona says smugly. "Apparently, you four have never heard of a backup."

With that, Mona pulls her laptop out of one of the shopping bags. She opens it, lets the screen warm up, and then Hanna's mouth fell open.

"You have scans of the diary," she whispers. "When did you do this?"

Mona smirks. "A _long_ time ago. Are you really that surprised?"

No. Not really. Hanna crowds at Mona's shoulder, peering over it at the screen.

"I've looked at the times these diaries were written, compared them with Aria's journal, and surprise, they match up. Our little A _never_ writes anything while Ezra's off playing with Aria, or while he's teaching classes."

She nods, not questioning how Mona knew all this. All of the diary's records have been timed and dated by their author, for as they already knew, A liked documenting things. Aria, likewise, being the romantic she was, methodically dated and gave a vague time of all her outings with Ezra. And thanks to Aria, they all knew exactly where Ezra would (should) be during any minute of the school day.

"That's suspicious," Hanna remarks.

Mona smiles. "It gets better."

She pull Aria's journal out of the bag, and somehow, while balancing the laptop on her arm, she flips to a bookmarked page. Then she brings up a scan of one of the diary's pages with a highlighted line.

Hanna reads it: it's an innocent-looking line about how A only has a couple of hours to set up another one of his tricks. Still, a shiver goes down her spine. Mona wouldn't bring this up unless it was very, very important.

"Busy at eight, huh?" Mona says with a smirk. "Let's see what Aria was doing at that time . . ."

Hanna knows what it will be before she reads: a date with Ezra.

"Are they all like that?" Hanna asks.

Mona repeats, "All the times match up."

The words strike her like a punch in the gut. She isn't sure whether to feel relieved or horrified, so she settles on jittery instead. Without a chair to settle into, she leans against the wall instead for support.

"There's more," Mona says.

In a flash, Hanna is up off the wall. Her heart pounds with anticipation.

For the first time, Mona looks a little nervous. "There's a reason I thought A was Aria," she admits. "This is it."

Out of her pocket, she takes out a small slip of paper. Carefully, like she was handling a glass figurine, she offers it to Hanna.

"I got this shortly after I started working for A," Mona says, with the barest traces of guilt in her voice.

Hanna unfolds the slip. It's a simple note, stating:

_Leave Aria out of this. I will deal with her._

_~ A_

She knows exactly what she's looking at, and it shocks her. It isn't just a note. It's proof. It's undeniable proof that A has some special interest in Aria.

It's almost certain proof that A is someone close to her.

* * *

"Hey guys, what's up?" Aria asks as she hangs her coat up.

They are all at Spencer's house, with Aria coming in the doorway, and the other three seated, waiting for her. The house is quiet, the mood sombre, and Aria quickly picks up on it.

"Guys?" she asks, looking between them all uncertainly.

"Sit down," Spencer commands. She sounds harsh, but Hanna knows it's because she's worried and doesn't know how to deal with this.

Aria does, choosing to sit next to Spencer. She's noticeably jumpy now; her hands bounce on her lap.

"What's going on?" she repeats.

Hanna, Emily and Spencer all look at each other.

Then, the dam breaks.

She feels sorry for poor Aria, who's being bombarded with damning accusation after accusation. They had kept most of their evidence against Ezra a secret from her for her own safety, so this is the first time she's heard any of this. Aria . . . she's just listening. Every shred of evidence they fling at her earns another wave of tears. Bit by bit, she's breaking right in front of them.

Finally, it ends. Breathing heavily, probably still riding the high from her _I Know Who A Is_ outburst, Spencer puts her hand on Aria's shoulder. "Aria, I know it hurts, but you have to listen to us. Ezra is A!"

Aria murmurs something. Hanna can't hear what, but Spencer's face becomes one of pure shock.

"Wh-what?" she stammers.

Aria sobs. "I know he's A. I know."

She buries her face into Spencer's shoulder and continues to cry, saying those two words over and over again.

* * *

**Review Response:**

**Guest: Thank you! I intend for the next chapter to be the last, so you should know how it ends before the holidays are up! :)**


	8. Aria II

**I don't own anything associated with Pretty Little Liars.**

**Please note that the beginning of this chapter takes place before last chapter.**

* * *

**Chapter 8**

"_Hey, Aria, do you want me to give you a ride to Emily's meet?_"

"_Actually, I don't think I can come. Family problems._"

Her last conversation with Spencer haunts her as she walks into the familiar apartment building. She realizes morbidly that should something happen to her (should A happen to her), she's left the others with no leads. However, she's not too concerned. She doesn't think Ezra would seriously hurt her (although if he knew that she knew he was A . . . all bets were off). Additionally, A has never hurt her on _his_ property.

She's supposed to be at Emily's meet, watching her friend swim in her last chance to earn a scholarship. Instead, she's in Ezra's apartment building. The familiar sight makes her shudder, but the more she thinks about it, the less choice she has. She and her friends are trying to protect Emily's meet from A anyways; it only makes sense for her to stop him before he even gets there.

With that in mind, she finds her way to apartment 3B.

Despite the voice urging her onwards, she can't bring herself to knock. Even though she's here with the sole purpose of protecting Emily, she still feels like she's betraying her. And so, she's stuck in time, too guilt-stricken to press onwards, too determined to turn back.

Finally, the decision is made for her.

Time slows when the doorknob turns. Aria's breath is caught in her throat. Before her eyes, before she can brace herself, the door opens. At once, she's stricken to the core. Before her lays the man she loved, the man she gave her virginity to, the man who's tortured her and her friends for over a year. In that face, she sees the kind, gentle eyes that guided her through so many trials. She also sees coldness, and rage.

Ezra's not wearing a hoodie, but he is holding a bag. That bag, she bets, holds his real costume, along with any equipment he needs to sabotage Emily's meet. But that won't be happening; not on her watch.

"Hey, Ezra. Going somewhere?"

He stares at her, in shock. Obviously, he hadn't double-checked her whereabouts before leaving his apartment. He recovers in a millisecond though, so quickly that she almost thinks she imagined his surprise, and says, "Oh, I'm visiting a friend."

"A friend," she repeats. "Right now?"

"Uh . . ."

She doesn't let him finish.

The feel of his lips against hers is both comforting and horrifying. Part of her wants to forget, to pretend like this is just another normal day in their fairy-tale romance, but too much of her remembers. She has to struggle to keep kissing him, has to force herself not to push him away.

Ezra pulls back. "Wow," is all he says.

The smirk comes so easily to her lips. "That's just the beginning."

She stands on her tiptoes so that she can wrap her arms around his neck. In doing so, she catches glimpse of her watch.

Twenty minutes. She needs to keep him busy for twenty minutes. Then he won't be able to get to the meet in time.

She can do this.

* * *

The next day, in the cafeteria, Aria asks, "How did the meet go?"

Even before Emily looks at her, even before she answers, Aria sees the proud smile on Hanna's face. Sure enough, when Emily finally speaks, it's with breathless, powerful excitement.

"Seriously?" Aria says in response. "That's great!"

Behind her, a voice says, "That's an understatement."

Paige sidles down next to Emily, giving her a look that can only be described as smouldering. "You should have seen her," Paige says, as if Emily had been racing in the Olympics and Paige had been her mother. "She was amazing."

Emily blushes. "Actually, I think –"

"No." Face grim, Paige silences her with that one word. Then, she breaks out into a radiant smile. "You were _amazing_."

Before she knows it, Aria is being treated to a second-by-second recount of Emily's meet. Within a few minutes, she knows exactly what Emily's time was in comparison to everyone else, exactly what the distance between her and her competitors was at any time in the race was. She even knows just how sexy Emily was when she ploughed through the water (okay, not true, but she can tell Paige will be ranting about that once she's alone with her girlfriend). Paige's enthusiasm is contagious, and soon, Emily stops protesting and everyone at the table is pouring over the meet as if they were the ones racing.

Aria leans back, and looks at all of them. She sees all their smiles, can virtually taste their joy.

_This is because of me_, she realizes. _I did this_.

And just like that, her decision is made.

* * *

It's scary how much her self-assigned duty takes over her life. She doesn't just have conversations with her friends anymore; she gathers intelligence. She doesn't make plans, she follows her carefully crafted plots. And she doesn't just go on dates with Ezra anymore, she launches attacks.

She lays on her bed, world spinning around her. She understands now how Mona is so easily able to fool others into thinking she's crazy. Because to be her, to masquerade as one person while being another, drives you crazy. And Aria is no exception. In some ways, she has it easier than Mona, because her friends will readily tell her their plans, but in some ways, she has it worse, because she's a double agent for the good guys, not the bad.

Her gaze strays to the homework sitting on her desk. She considers starting it, but her brain hurts too much. She's stretched the poor thing to the limit. It has to keep track of where her friends will be and when (because she can't write it down or A will figure out what she's doing), has to decide on their importance, and then make the decision whether or not to try to protect them. She wishes that she could always interfere, but that would make Ezra super suspicious. So, instead, she straddles a delicate line. She distracts him enough so that her friends can get their lives back, and lets him win enough so that he doesn't catch on.

It's a very, very delicate balance, and it's driving her mad.

* * *

She's woken by the slam of a textbook against a table. She blinks rapidly, unsure why her neck hurts so much, and then realizes she's at school, not home.

"Shit!" She fumbles to get her phone out. What time is it?

"Hey, Sleeping Beauty," Noel jeers. "Congratulations, you just slept through class. I bet Mr. Fitz was very disappointed."

She looks at the front of the room. Sure enough, she recognizes Ezra's handwriting on the blackboard. She swears again; it's one thing to fall asleep in class, but to fall asleep in _his_ class? She knows he's going to question her about it.

"Don't worry," Noel says with false charm (ugh, how did she crush on this guy in the first place?), "I got an extra copy of the assignment for you. Figured you might need a reminder since you haven't done much work lately."

She winces. What Noel just said, it's a direct shot at how she's falling behind in her classes. Her marks have never been as great as Spencer's, but they were certainly decent. Now, though? Now they're beginning to reach Hanna's level.

But it's not her fault. She just doesn't have time to do homework! She needs that time to plan, to figure out who and what A will be targeting next (to shower and scrub herself until she feels anything remotely like clean again); to fabricate believable lies for her friends as to why she's missing so much (to school her face so she can feign indifference when she sees their hurt, and so she can pretend that she's not hurting too); to charm Ezra and lure his attention away from her friends (to lock herself in the bathroom and cry because, oh God, she wants to tell them so bad, but she can't because then they won't be _safe_). It keeps her up most nights: what she's done, what she's doing to herself. It haunts her whenever she's alone.

Suddenly, Noel drops the jokes. "Aria, is everything okay?"

She doesn't speak for a second. "Yes, everything's fine!"

She snatches up her bag, and makes for the classroom's door.

Noel grabs her shoulder.

He doesn't say anything. She thinks that, originally, he meant to, but he doesn't. He just stares at her, until she's sufficiently uncomfortable enough to bounce on her feet.

"Noel, I have to get to my next class."

He doesn't take her eyes off her when he removes her hand. Even as she leaves, she feels his stare boring into her back.

* * *

She has no idea why Spencer has announced an emergency meeting at her house. Either way, she trudges over, fighting the urge to collapse where she stands and sleep. By the time she gets there, the rest of her friends are already present, and she can feel the tension.

Then, they spill. They know. They _know_.

All she can do is cry into Spencer's shoulder, because part of her is horrified because now she can't protect them, but most of her is just relieved because she doesn't have to pretend anymore.

* * *

She hardly remembers how she ended up here: alone in an old, abandoned barn with Ezra. Normally, that wouldn't be a problem. Except her friends are nowhere nearby, and he _knows_.

The barn is pretty much empty, save for a car in the far back. Although the paint is peeling and the place reeks, there are no holes, no way for anyone outside to see what's going on within. It also means that there are no planks for her to use as a weapon; this encounter is not at all in her favour.

Ezra steps towards her. "How long have you known?" he demands.

She backs up right into a wall. She doesn't see anything of the Ezra she fell in love with; his eyes seem pitch-black, soulless. He isn't yelling at her; no, his rage is a controlled one. Somehow, that makes it worse.

"A while," she says.

"Before or after the rest of them knew?"

She swallows. "Before."

His eyes widened with surprise. "You didn't tell them."

She tries to form words. Failing that, she shakes her head.

At first, she doesn't think he believes her. Then he laughs. He steps towards her, and it's all she can do to scramble back.

"Stay away from me!"

His arm, already reaching out for her, freezes. He looks nothing short of astounded. "Aria, I'm not going to hurt you."

But she doesn't believe him. "You're A," she says.

His Adam's apple bobs. "I've never hurt you before, Aria."

"You tried to kill Alison," she whispers.

"Aria, you don't understand," he says. "You haven't heard the full story –"

"You tried to throw me off a train!"

"_THAT WASN'T ME!_"

His shout echoes through the small room, making her ears ring. For a moment, in that instant where he had screamed, there had been nothing other than pure rage. The same rage that would drive one to obsession. The same rage that would drive one to _kill_.

His anger smothers her, drives the air out of her lungs so she can't speak. So, he takes over. In a low, gravelly voice, he says, "It wasn't me, Aria. They were using you to get at me. It was Melissa, and Detective Wilden, I swear."

"Melissa and Wilden?" she echoes.

"Yes," he says. And suddenly, all the light, all the kindness is sucked out of his eyes. "That's why I killed him."

Everything stops. True, she already had worked that out for herself, but to hear him say it – to hear him sound so _proud_ of what he's done – there was no way she could have braced herself for that.

"Oh my gosh!" She puts her hand to her mouth.

"I had to!" Ezra cries. "Wilden wasn't going to stop. He was going to hurt you, Aria."

"Alison –"

"You don't know the whole story," he says again.

Bravely, she pushes back her fear and says, "Then what is the story?"

He breathes heavily, almost panting. In a voice almost too strained to understand, he says, "She told me she was eighteen."

Aria says nothing. It sounds very much like something Alison would do.

"I met her at a party," Ezra says. "We clicked, decided to spend some time together . . . I didn't realize she already knew who I was."

"Wait, Alison knew who you were?" Aria says in astonishment. Alison never mentioned _that_.

"I don't know if she knew my name," Ezra admits, "but she knew I was rich."

That's it. He's dropped the bomb, and now, everything's changed. Things are coming together in a way she decidedly doesn't like. It's not enough that her boyfriend is the villain, but now her lost best friend appears to be just as nasty as him.

"We slept together," he says hoarsely, "and then she told me the truth. She told me that if I didn't pay her every week for the rest of her life, she was going to the police."

"So, you tried to kill her," Aria says.

"I had to!" His voice is wild; she thinks he's about to tear out his own hair. "I tried, Aria. I tried reasoning with her, but she was ruthless. She actually called the police in front of me. I didn't know what to do!"

He blinks furiously, jaw clenched. With a start, she realizes he's holding back tears. "I had no choice. If she had gone to the police, it wouldn't just be my career that was finished; the scandal would have ruined my family's business. Aria, she was going to destroy my entire family!"

Aria shuts her eyes. "So, you made sure she couldn't tell."

Tears roll down his face.

"I had to."

A breeze rustles her hair. In the following silence, neither of them move. Ezra's chest heaves; his attention is entirely on her. Aria can't bear to look at him. She stares at a corner instead, because it's blank and doesn't remind her of him, doesn't remind her of Alison.

Quietly, she says, "And when you realized Alison survived, you tried to find her and finish what you started."

"I had to, Aria," Ezra says. "She wasn't going to forget what I did. I . . . I went after your friends to draw her out."

"Is . . . is that why you dated me?" It's a selfish question, considering how much else she needs to know, but she _has_ to know.

"At first, but things changed." He steps towards her, and despite herself, she can't move away. "You were just supposed to be an in. But the more time I spent with you . . . I never expected to fall for you."

Her eyes close again. It doesn't stop her from hearing him.

"You were different. I only meant to stay with you until I could figure out if you and your friends knew where Alison was hiding, but things happened so fast. One minute, I'm talking to you in a bar, the next I'm inviting you into my home, and the next I'm standing with you and telling your parents!" She hears him pace, so close to her. "It wasn't supposed to go that far!"

Then comes the calm after the storm. She just focuses on breathing. In. Out.

Then, his fingers gently lift her chin. She can feel his lips right next to her ear.

"Aria . . . I never lied about loving you."

It's too much. She pushes him away, tears falling freely.

"And what?" she demands. "You think that will make everything better?"

"I'm not asking you to forgive me," he says, "I'm just asking you to understand."

She nods. Because she does understand. She thinks. "What happens now?"

They stare at each other.

"I guess that's up to you," he says.

"Wh-what do you mean?"

"It doesn't have to be like this," he says. He takes a step towards her, and as Aria automatically tries to move back, the wall digs into her spine. "Aria, I have _never _wanted to hurt you. I want to be with you, but Alison . . . Aria, we can move on, put all this behind us and have our happy ending, but we have to take care of her first."

She stares at him.

She hesitates.

* * *

**Next chapter will be the last. I want to finish this before school starts again, so it'll be posted sometime this weekend.**


	9. Conclusion

**I don't own anything associated with Pretty Little Liars.**

**A bit of swearing in this chapter, but nothing too bad.**

* * *

**Chapter 9**

"Where the hell is she?" Hanna screeches.

"Don't yell at us, we don't know!" Emily says. Before Hanna can start yelling again, she puts her hand on the blonde's shoulder, effectively telling her to be quiet. "Spencer, she knew to meet us here, right?"

"I slipped the note into her locker," Spencer says frantically. "She should have seen it!"

The _should_ echoes in their mind. Spencer knows what they're thinking: they think that Aria didn't see the note (they've been communicating everything important through them ever since Hanna revealed their phones were bugged). She might have thought that too, except this would be the first time Aria had ever missed one, and even without the note, the smaller girl had known they were going to meet somewhere, just not where. In Spencer's mind, if Aria hadn't gotten the note, she would have tried to ask one of them where they were going.

Thus, for Spencer, the fact that Aria _isn't_ here means trouble. Big trouble.

"Hanna, you have your mom's phone, don't you?" Spencer demands, nearly begging. They all had left their own phones at home, so that A couldn't listen in.

"For the thousandth time, I do," Hanna says. She quickly dials in Aria's number, and hold the phone up to her ear. "She's still not picking up!"

"Probably because she can't!" Spencer says grimly. "It's A. It's got to be A!"

"Okay, okay," Emily says. "So, we check Ezra's apartment, right?"

"If he kidnapped her, why the hell would they be there!" she snaps.

Emily shrugs, arms crossed over her chest defensively. "Well, where would they be, then?"

"I don't know; they could be anywhere!"

It feels like electricity is running through her veins. She can nearly feel a vein bulging on her forehead. Spencer stomps away from her two friends, hands entangled in her hair, wanting to scream, but too stressed to make her vocal chords comply. Although it's a cool evening, she's drenched in a nervous sweat, and feels like she's going to burn from the inside out.

"We could try calling Mike," Emily says. "Maybe he knows."

"Her parents didn't, so why should he?" She didn't mean to jump down Emily's throat, but in this current situation, she can't stop herself.

"We don't have any other ideas," Emily says.

Hanna speaks, "Guys?"

"What?" Spencer barks.

"I just got a text from an unknown number."

That's it. Spencer nearly trips over her own feet as she races over. Emily is already checking out the text, and Spencer sees a mix of horror and relief spreading over her.

Before Spencer can see the text, Hanna puts it back into her purse and orders, "Get in the car."

Spencer does so. She takes over the driver's seat (even though it's technically Emily's Toyota), buckles up, and demands, "What did the text say?"

Quietly, Emily says, "It's an address. And a picture of an old barn in the woods."

Spencer chokes. A mysterious text with a location? It must be A.

Ezra has Aria.

She drives for about five minutes before Hanna finally shouts at her to pull over. She's reluctant at first, but when Emily teams up with Hanna, she eventually complies. She pulls the car over, and doesn't stir. Her fingers remain locked around the wheel, as if they are unable to move.

She doesn't even notice Emily slide out, then open Spencer's door. Gently, Emily reaches over and pries Spencer's hand loose. "Spence, it's okay. Let me drive, okay?"

Spencer looks at her.

She finally realizes just how much she's shaking.

She climbs into the back with Hanna, who immediately hugs her around the shoulders. "She's going to be okay," Hanna whispers. "Aria can take care of herself."

"You don't know that!" Spencer wrenches herself out of Hanna's grip. "Don't you guys get it? Ezra hasn't hurt Aria since she broke up with Jake. If he's going after her now, then that means something major has happened. That means he knows _she's onto him_! That means he'll -"

"Yes, we _know_, Spencer!" Emily barks in a _very_ uncharacteristically fierce manner.

The words pierce her like an arrow. Suddenly, Spencer's white-hot rage burns over, replaced by shame. "I'm sorry," she mumbles. "I'm just worried."

"We know," Hanna says softly. She rubs Spencer's back. "We all are."

Spencer nearly whimpers. "She's so _tiny_. Hanna, please, let me see the text."

Wordlessly, Hanna surrenders her phone. Spencer's right on it, desperate to find out where they're going, so she can figure out how long it will take to get there.

But when she finds the text, she discovers something else.

She says, "Guys, I know this number. I know who texted this."

"What, who?" Hanna and Emily shout at the same time.

Spencer looks up, her face haunted. "It's Melissa."

* * *

"Aria . . ."

"N-no." She shakes her head frantically, wishing the wall behind her would just disappear so she can run.

Ezra goes still. He looks genuinely shocked. "What do you mean 'no'?"

"I w-won't help you." She swallows. The simple action serves to strengthen her, and in a stronger voice, she says, "I'm not going to help you!"

"But we –"

"You torture my friends!" She's so very, very close to shouting; she's right on the borderline. "I . . . I can't help you do something like that. I _won't_."

"But what about us?" Ezra demands, choking a little. "I love you, Aria. Don't you love me?"

She makes the mistake of looking straight into his eyes. The vulnerability she sees there, the raw honesty, the _pain_, it's enough to make her resolve waver.

But only enough for that.

She closes her eyes and whispers, "I love my friends more."

There is nearly a minute of silence. She keeps her eyes closed, scared to look at him, lest her will crumble.

"So, you're giving up on us?" Ezra asks. "After everything we've been through, you . . .you're going to throw our relationship away."

They're both crying. Aria, most of all. She rubs her eyes, but a few stray tears still make it to the bottom of her face.

"I can't be with you," she says. "Not after this."

His expression shifts.

Suddenly, she's afraid.

"It's because of Alison, isn't it?" Ezra growls. "Even after I told you everything, you still side with her."

"This has nothing to do with Alison!" Aria says. "You've lied to me since the day we met!"

"Aria, grow up!" he shouts to her shock. He's gotten so close to her that every time he speaks, hot air blasts her face. "You were lying to me, too. Don't you see: you're still doing exactly what Alison wants you to do!"

"You are torturing my _friends_!" she screams. "Do you honestly think I can just ignore that?"

"I have to do that!" he shouts back. "I have to because of that _bitch_!"

As he says that last word, his face completely warps. He seems to change into something demonic; as the darkness sweeps over him, she knows she is looking not at Ezra, but at Alison's killer.

The barn's single light goes out.

If Ezra's swearing is anything to go by, this wasn't part of his plan. She shoves him away from her, and stumbles away from him, one hand on the wall. The only source of light is a crack between the slightly ajar doors. She heads for that.

Someone passes through the light's crack.

Someone touches her.

The shock is so great that her scream morphs into a gasp before it leaves her lips. A good thing too, as when the person holding her shoulder whispers, she knows right away that it's not Ezra.

She reaches up and grips Alison's hand tight, and the two of them run for the outside world.

They reach the doors just as, behind them in the barn, a pair of lights goes on. It's bright enough that they look back.

It's Ezra in the car.

* * *

"There it is!" Spencer shouts. Before Emily has slowed, Spencer has gotten her seatbelt off and is leaping at the door. They have just stopped when Spencer hops out, Hanna quick on her heels.

Emily is slower. She wrestles with her seatbelt as the other two head straight for the lone, old barn. A click signals her freedom, and she rips herself free, reaches for the door handle –

She's distracted from her task. The barn doors open, and two figures hurdle out. At first, she thinks it's both Aria and Ezra, but then she realizes the two figures are too small to be Ezra.

She croaks, "Alison?"

At that moment, the taller figure is caught in the headlights and all Emily sees is a red coat.

"Alison . . ."

The relief is short-lived. Aria and Alison are still running, shouting something and abruptly, Hanna and Spencer turn and start running, too. Emily goes rigid. She slams on the horn, then buckles up again, readying for a quick getaway.

Then, something unbelievable happens.

A car crashes through the barn's doors.

It's aiming right at her friends.

They get out of the way just in time.

When her friends dodged the car, they all ended up on the ground. Hanna is by Alison and Spencer, the latter of whom quickly abandons them to help Aria. Apparently stunned, none of her friends get up right away.

None of them, except Emily, sees the car turns around.

It starts to roll forward, angling itself as to miss Spencer and Aria, but still hit Hanna and Alison.

Emily doesn't even think.

She aims, and slams on the gas.

* * *

When she sees the car coming a second time, Hanna knows she is going to die. Since the car's headlights shining straight in her face, she only sees a shadow where the driver should be. Still, she knows who is driving: fucking Ezra.

She grabs Alison's hand, braces herself –

Out of nowhere, Emily smashes into the side of Ezra's car. The vehicles go sideways, missing Hanna and Alison by miles, and crash into the trees of the surrounding forest.

"_Emily!_"

To their horror, Emily isn't moving. The front of Emily's formerly beautiful Toyota is ruined, pressed against the side of Ezra's car. There's also a tree in front of him, preventing him from accelerating forward. However, as they watch, the car begins to inch backwards.

Then, further down the road, lights go on. A car bursts out of the woods. It roars down the road, and slams into the back of Ezra's car, forcing it forward until it hits the tree, pinning him.

They all stare. Even if this stranger had gone after Ezra, they still don't know if they are friend or foe.

They hear car doors open and close. A dark figure leaps onto the roof of Ezra's car, and then hops onto the hood, then onto the ground. Despite the crash, both Emily and Ezra's vehicles still have their headlights on. They illuminate the figure from behind and the left, casting half of his body in light, and the other half in shadow.

In a shaky voice, Aria exclaims, "_Noel_?"

There's no trace of Noel's usual bravado or smile. He is, for the only time in Hanna's memory, completely serious.

Before they can talk to him, Emily's door opens. Clearly dazed, she practically falls out, caught by another hand at the last moment.

Spencer steps forward. "Melissa."

Once Melissa is done helping Emily out, she looks at her younger sister. Quietly, wearily, she says, "You never trusted me."

Spencer swallows and stares at the ground. Only when Emily finally staggers over does she look up again.

"Wait a second," Hanna says. "Are you saying that you two were helping us all along?"

"We tried to," Noel said. "But you kept making things difficult. I mean seriously, what did I ever do to make you hate me so much?"

"You were born," Hanna says bluntly, ignoring how Aria gasped and hit her.

Noel laughs. "Funny, Hanna. Real funny. But now that I just saved your ass, maybe you'll –"

_Bang_.

Noel stumbles forward. Over his shoulder, Hanna sees a shadow –

_Bang_.

He collapses. Behind him stands Ezra.

With a gun.

Ezra limps forward. There's blood coating the fringe of his forehead, and a trail of it down his right temple. He's in terrible shape, but none of that matters: he has the gun.

Aria speaks, "Ezra, please . . ."

"No," he says curtly. "They all know. It's . . . it's over for me."

"You don't have to do this!" Aria begs. "Ezra, please –"

"I'm not letting her win!" Ezra roars. "Not anymore."

Nothing happens. Then Ezra says, "I want Alison. Everyone else, step aside!"

Spencer's reaction is immediate. She steps in front of Alison, shielding her. "You can't have her."

Ezra's voice is icy-cold as he says, "That's not a good idea, Spencer."

"Spencer, get out of the way!" Melissa hisses.

But Melissa's words fall on deaf ears. In anything, they accomplish the exact opposite of her goal. Now, Hanna joins Spencer. They link arms as Emily manages to drag herself over to their protective wall. Aria is last to join them; Hanna can see she's still in shock.

Ezra points his gun at them with a shaky hand. "Ladies, I never wanted to kill you. Just give me Alison, and you can go."

"We're not moving," Hanna growls.

Ezra doesn't blink. "Okay."

The shot goes off. They all scream, Hanna expecting to feel a bullet rip through her flesh. But she's not hit. None of them were. Instead of shooting them, Ezra had shot the ground.

But for only that one time. They can all tell by his expression that next time, he won't miss.

"Last chance," Ezra says. "Aria, _move_."

Neither of the four girls move.

Ezra begins to lift his arm -

"No!"

Before they can stop her, Alison breaks though their barrier.

"Don't hurt them," she begs.

Without pause, Ezra says, "I never wanted to."

In an instant, everything stops. Hanna sees Spencer, too shocked by Alison's sacrifice to do anything; she sees Emily, desperate to help, but too battered from the crash to move fast enough; she sees Aria, still believing that in the end, Ezra would stop and return to being a good guy. That leaves Hanna herself.

She's the only one who can save Alison now.

Ezra lifts his arm, takes off the safety –

Hanna runs forward and leaps in front of Alison.

Ezra hesitates.

_Bang_.

Spencer both screams and moans, hands over her mouth. Together, her, Emily and Aria wait for Hanna to fall, for Alison to fall.

But they don't.

The gun slips from Ezra's limp hand, and he falls. Behind him, crouched on the hood on his car, appearance obscured by shadow, there is yet another person with a gun. They wait for the stranger to reveal himself or herself, and are not disappointed.

Mona slips off the car's hood and into the light.

"Hanna, are you okay?" She runs towards them, sounding frantic.

"I'm okay," Hanna says breathlessly. "How did you know we were here?"

Mona glances at Melissa.

"Hold on," Spencer says. "You were working with _Mona_?"

Melissa grumbles, "Obviously. She's been running our team for the past few months."

Hanna stares at Mona. If she was running the B-Team then . . . then she really has been on their side. Silently, she and Mona share a moment as Spencer staggers past them, and stands over Ezra's still form.

"Is this . . . is this the end?" she asks.

"I think so," Melissa says.

Mona cuts in, "It is."

"Then it's really over," Spencer says. "We beat A."

* * *

Part of her thinks there should be cheering; there should be partying, and drinking, and maybe even some cake. But there's none of that. Even though they've survived the mystery, there's no joy, only a big emptiness. Because they may have beaten A, but the cost was so high.

Even now, Aria is curled up just beyond the range of Ezra's blood, Spencer's soothing words doing little to stop her tears. Emily is by Noel's side, speaking to him softly as his breathing quickens, and the light in his eyes grow dimmer. Hanna is still, in shock, Mona's hand in her being the only thing keeping her from breaking. And Melissa perches on the hood of Emily's truck, gun in her hand, scared that one of A's minions will come to avenge him.

And Alison? Alison watches, as she has always done.

She feels their sorrow, but not for the reason that they do. She accepted Ezra's betrayal and the necessity of his death long ago. No, her grief is based on a very different emotion: guilt. Because Alison knows she was the cause of all this. If she hadn't been so callous, if she had been less snobbish, less selfish, then maybe things could have gone so differently. Because everything, every little bit of pain her friends had endured under A's reign, ultimately came back to her.

She looks over the group. Aria seems the most broken, so she goes to her first. No doubt, once Aria calms down, there will be bad blood between the two. For now, though, Aria is too hysterical to remember what Alison did to Ezra, did to her. However, Alison can see that Spencer knows, but the taller girl relents, and allows Alison in to comfort Aria.

As Aria shakes in her grasp, reality starts to sink in. Glumly, Alison realizes that it's not over yet. They will have to face the police and answer the tough questions. Most importantly, the truth about herself and everything she's been through will have to come out. _Everything_ will have to come to light.

But she has to do it. After everything she's done to her friends, she has to. She knows it will be difficult, that the fallout will be massive. But the path to redemption has never been an easy one, and in time, maybe they'll come to accept who she was, what she did. In time, maybe they'll move on from the past and the five of them can begin anew. As _equals_.

It's all she can hope for.

It's all she _does_ hope for.

* * *

**And that is the end. Here' a big thanks for everyone who read this story to its end. I hope you enjoyed it!**


End file.
